First, I own nothing to do with Twilight, and never will.

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"I need to use the bathroom."

"Again?" He cast me a skeptical look. "But Bella, you just went hardly two hours ago."

It unnerved me that he knew the precise time since I'd last used the bathroom. Clearly, he had watched me and keeping track of me more thoroughly than I thought. It hardly should have surprised me, though. He liked to watch me, and I learned that very quickly, during our time spent together in the stuffy hotel room. He would sit there, either on the bed, hovering around me while I tried my very best to ignore his presence, or he would simply be standing around, dead-silent, with his hands clasped behind his back while he observed me doing whichever I did at the time, like he didn't know what to do with them or maybe it was to prevent himself from touching.

"Can I go use the bathroom?" I pressed angrily, when he didn't offer me any ounce of consent to go ahead.

It wasn't that I felt I had to ask him for permission; I was my own person, after all. I supposed, I just felt, it was better that way. It dawned onto me, that perhaps it was better to leave him the impression he was the one in control here. I didn't believe that, though. Not with what he revealed to me this morning. His heart was sick, and desperate, for my love. He feared losing me most. What he didn't know, was that it presented me a whole new outlook on everything; I was, in fact, the one in control here. I had all the power. He wanted me to love him again, so desperately. He wouldn't want to deprive me of anything, and I could use that to my advantage.

"Well, why didn't you go ahead and use it before we packed our things and locked up the room?"

"Because, I didn't realize I had to go, until now!"

He let me off on my own, much to my satisfaction, while he waited inside the car. I went into the reception area, and asked to use their toilet. The man behind the desk greeted me pleasantly, and I found it was so nice to have decent human interaction again. Edward was mostly human in some ways, but it still felt different to me. Something was lacking. The blood I had seen him drink twice since our time together, in the hotel room, made him alter in my eyes a bit. It made me fully comprehend just what he truly was, and how different we were. We worked differently. Everything with him, was more intense, and on a different page in contrast to me.

I used the bathroom, taking my time, because the longer I spent in there, it meant less time to dwell over my situation. When I got out, I looked outside the front window to where Edward's car was. He was sitting inside, the window halfway scrolled down. He was staring at me, but he ought to have known better than to think I wouldn't try to take advantage of the situation as much as possible. This was for Charlie.

"Thank you," I whispered to the man behind the reception desk, as evenly as I possibly could. He was roughly in his mid-forties or fifties, bald, with a greying moustache and a front tooth missing. "Please, do you mind doing something for me? It's very urgent." His eyebrows rose a fraction to his receding hairline; He caught onto my desperate tone of voice. I didn't have much time, though; I had to be quick, in order for Edward not to gather any suspicion. "I need you to contact a man for me. His name is Charlie Swan." My voice was hushed and speedy, as if I almost believed Edward would overhear from all the way out in his car, which was sort of pathetic. "I need you to tell him for me, that I'm fine, for now. Edward has me. Look in the phone book and find his number." I levelled a serious stare onto him, one I was hoping he would follow through on. "Contact him soon as I leave, and inform him of what I've just said to you. Please."

He nodded, wide-eyed, and bent down underneath the counter. I shot a hand out to stop him.

"Not yet," I whispered desperately. Then forced a smile. "After I leave. Please do it."

He nodded again, and I could feel him staring at me, most likely trying to make sense of my request, when I pushed through the doors and walked urgently to the side of Edward's car. He started the ignition, and reversed, meeting me halfway. He peered down at me through the window, and the look he gave me unsettled me deeply.

His eyes flared, and so did the nostrils. I had done something wrong in his books in talking to the man behind the reception desk; I just prayed to God he hadn't heard. Maybe he could, if he had acute vampire hearing? I didn't know much, after all.

"Quickly. Get inside the car."

I climbed in, pleased to be getting out and back onto the road, but cautious overall. He didn't talk to me as we sped out of there. There was a sense of urgency to his driving though, that worried me. I couldn't help wondering if he did know.

We drove a few blocks, until Edward suddenly pulled up into a private driveway and cut the ignition. I knew then, it wasn't good. He turned over in his seat to level a deadly serious stare on me.

I took in a shaky breath. Here it goes.

"What were you doing with him?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"What? We were just talking," I lied, shrugging, looking straight ahead. It helped not to look at him.

"Talking about what exactly? What did he want to know?"

"Stop interrogating me like something is wrong, Edward," I snapped, unable to contain myself.

"I'm not. I'm just wondering why you were talking to him, like you were. You were smiling, and looked happy about something. I was wondering why."

"We were just talking. He asked where we were headed."

"And what did you tell him?" he pressed, infuriating me.

"I told him, I didn't know where we were heading to, Edward. Because really, I don't. You've kept me in the dark."

"How did he ask it? Suspiciously, or normally?"

"What?" Great. Now he was being paranoid.

"Should I turn back and kill him before he gets any sense?"

I didn't know whether he was intending to make a cruel joke or not.

"Now you're being sarcastic."

"Oh, am I?" I felt him lean towards me over the console, and he grabbed the bottom of my chin. He tilted my head to meet him square in the eyes. There was doubtfulness in them. "Do I look like I'm being sarcastic, Bella? I could easily kill him, within a second. If this goes wrong... then I..." He trailed off meaningfully. I shuddered.

"He just... he sounded simply curious," I said after a frightened minute. "That's it, Edward. I'm sure he doesn't know anything about how you're keeping me against my will!"

"Good." He slipped his hand off my chin, and ran his fingers through my hair. "I hope you're right on that." He leaned back in his seat, perversely satisfied. Then, he said aloof, "And you didn't tell him anything at all?"

"No," I growled, short of a yell. "I didn't! All right?"

"All right, baby. Just checking."

"Don't call me baby, Edward," I warned stiffly.

"Or else what?" There was curiosity lurking in his voice. "What will you do? Hit me? Why bother, I can't feel anything anyway."

But then, he smiled at me so I knew then everything was pushed aside. The whole conversation was over, and that pleased me like crazy. I breathed easier then, and relaxed into the seat. He never knew, and hopefully he wouldn't ever find out. I was clinging onto that hope in an iron grasp, because I knew, it was bound to make him angry if he had.

Another hotel room for the night.

This one, was much smaller. And plain, with hardly anything inside it. A double bed. Plain wallpaper. One small desk beside the bed, with a lamp. Hotel rooms were quickly becoming my new home.

He locked the door again, soon as we entered. He was always locking it, like he couldn't bear the thought of making it easier on me to leave. He didn't need to worry, though; I wasn't intending on escaping anytime soon. At least, not yet. I had devised a sort of a plan in my head. I wouldn't try to make an escape, until the last, perfect moment. I wanted to appear as willing as possible, so that the moment I did make the attempt, it would be sudden, and catch him off-guard and unprepared. Waiting grew unbearable, though. Everytime he slipped outside to have a cigarette, and the door opened, I had to physically stop myself from attempting to rush at it and get out into the air.

He thought of everything beforehand, though. I realized just how meticulous he was, with everything.

In all the safety precautions he took so that I wouldn't try escape. The third time he went out of a cigarette, I peeked through the window at the side of the room, and discovered he was standing directly outside the door. He knew I had no hope in ever getting past him that way. He never spent too long away from me, neither. He was always there, watching me. Everywhere I went in the room, everything I did whether it be slipping into the bathroom to hide for several minutes, it resulted in me having an intrigued spectator in him. He refused to leave me in peace. If I spent what he believed was too long an amount in the bathroom, he would make his concern known in tapping on the opposite side of the door gently and enquiring into whether I was all right, or if I needed anything.

After a while, I resorted into giving him the silent treatment. I wondered if it would make any difference. I went to bed early, I tried to sleep tightly underneath the covers of the hotel bed, keeping most of me hidden.

It was no good, whether I outright refused to talk to him, or not. I learned nothing could ever really get him into a bad mood, whenever he was around me. I guessed then that my human ways excited him greatly. I learned that well and truly, when I woke just some time in the early hours of the night. The lamp on top of the beside drawer opposite my side of the bed was on, bathing the wall across from where I laid on the pillow into a shadowy, pale glow. At first, I didn't know where he was. Everything was so quiet, and still. I assumed he was lounging around on the space of the bed next to me, but turned out, I was wrong. A long, lean shadow came into my vision, and I discovered then that he was standing quietly cautious as a mouse, just observing me while I had slept. I found out then he really enjoyed watching me sleeping, it really amused him in some peculiar way.

He was staring down at me, and when I stirred sleepily onto my back, I gasped, disconcerted the instance I met his bright eyes while he stood there over me, observing me. He gave me a peaceful smile, like the image of me sleeping was so endearing to him. Though it was probably meant as something harmless, it creeped me out.

I tried not to fall back asleep after that, even though it was incredibly hard. I was different from him; I needed my sleep. And I was learning sleeping helped me recoup a lot, over a scary time like this. It meant I could forget where I was, and that I was being held in a hotel with him, if for several hours. But it was a dreadful experience to wake and realize, yet again, just where I was, and who I was being held with.

I also had tried to be strong, and tried to no longer cry over the situation. Sometimes, I would slip up, and I could feel wet, warm tears trickle down the sides of my cheeks. But luckily, for me, the tears were silent. I didn't sob, so it didn't give him any satisfaction in feeling the urge to console me in some way.

I didn't feel in the mood to fall asleep again, even though my body was telling me something vastly different. My eyes had trouble staying open, but I tried my very hardest in keeping them peeled wide open so that I could acknowledge him silently. I sat up, my body screaming against it, and rested my back against the headboard. He watched me then, with some surprise, and his hands shot behind his back yet again. He clearly was trying to control himself from touching me, and I took that in with some relief.

"Let's talk," I whispered through the silence, my voice embarrassingly slow and drugged out with sleep. I just wanted the still silence to end between us. I grew tired of noticing him staring at me.

"Okay." He was pleased by the effort I had in staying up, and I could tell as much. He strode over towards the untaken side of the bed, I heard him kick off his shoes, and then he climbed onto the mattress and sat near me, resting an elbow near my side. Even then, it was still far too close for comfort. I was almost dying to scramble away from him, off the bed. "Ask me a question. Anything you want."

"All right." I pondered for a moment, thinking hard. "Okay. How long have you been a vampire for?"

"One hundred and sixteen years," he answered, without a beats worth of hesitation whatsoever.

I tried to hide my shocked face, only I couldn't conceal it well, and he laughed over it.

"So, it's my turn," he reminded me. His face straightened seriously, as he peered down intently into my eyes. "Do you think you will ever be able to forgive me?"

"Another question," I prompted quickly.

He laughed again; a bit of a shocked one. "Why can't you answer that? It's the easiest question."

"No, it isn't," I disagreed strongly. "Because how can you put a definite answer on that? Ask me something else."

"All right, then." He concentrated for a moment, mulling his next question over. I felt strange lying halfway down the way I was, so I pushed all my effort into sitting up, and crossing my legs. Then, he spoke next, "Do you still love me?" His voice went low and whispery.

I pressed my forehead into my knees, refusing to look at him head-on. "Ask me another, please."

"Then, will you ever?"

"Next question," I repeated firmly.

"No." He just wouldn't let it go. "Is it ever possible for you to love me again?"

"Edward." My voice dropped with my despair. "Please. Move onto another less difficult question, please."

"Because I love you, it will never stop, and you already know that."

"Is that what a person does when they love somebody?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light. I still didn't dare look at him while I said; I rubbed my forehead against my kneecaps. "They steal them away, and hold them hostage, like this? Is this what love is to you? Is that how you show it?"

He ignored my question, and tried for another one of his own instead. "Do you honestly believe that I would ever hurt you, Bella?"

He was all for difficult questions. Ones that I didn't know the definite answer to.

"I'm not sure," I sighed. I plucked the material of my shirt anxiously at my stomach, just for some mindless activitity to stick to so I wouldn't have to look up. "In a way, I know you wouldn't. But at the same time, you've already hurt me."

"I've already hurt you?" He repeated, sounding outraged. "Are there any shackles on you? Are you tied up to the bed right now? Have I handcuffed you, or deprived you of anything, like food?"

"Well, maybe not physically, I guess." I shrugged. "But you hurt me in hurting my father. You've hurt me a lot emotionally."

"And perhaps you're right. Perhaps I have, but it's never been intentional. Hurting you, would be like hurting myself. Excruciating."

"You're hurting me now," I pointed out, a little breathless. "Every second you have me here, you're hurting me. I miss Charlie, and I really want to go home."

He didn't say anything about that; He just stared at me in a silence that felt cold.

"What would you do, if I said I didn't love you anymore, and that it would never change? That we could never go back to the way we once were, because the damage you've done is unforgivable?" I knew it would hurt him while I said it, which wasn't my intention at all. I just wondered how things would be.

He made a grunting noise from in the back of his throat, illustrating his distaste on the scenario I'd brought up. "Then I wouldn't know what to do," he muttered despairingly after several moments.

"What do you mean?" I asked, with some concern spilling over in my voice. "Why couldn't you just do whatever you did before we met?"

"Because, it isn't something you can forget that easily."

"Why can't you just try? Try to forget me, and go on as if we'd never met?"

"My memories a little different from yours, Bella. I can't push aside something so easily, especially not something that takes up my mind every single hour of the day." His face scrunched up in unease. "My head is like a clock that never ceases ticking, for twenty-four hours straight. Especially due to the fact I can't sleep. Everything, is mostly: 'Bella, Bella, Bella'. Even if I tried, I would be miserable. All I would see, is your face. And, even by that point, all I could do to stop the pain over your absence, would be to kill myself. It's a lose-lose situation."

"But couldn't you maybe, I don't know..." It was a struggle to keep my voice light. "Maybe, eventually... find somebody else to project all that on? Someone else who could take my place?"

"It isn't that simple, Bella," he said, irritatedly. "It's not like something you can find a replacement for. Like I said before, it's permanent. I can't see anyone else, I can't even... think of anyone else." He lifted a hand and raked his fingers through his hair in agitation. "It'll always be you. This is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, when we find our mate. It's unchangeable."

'Mate.' There goes that word again. "But what happens if the other person doesn't want to be your... mate? What if it isn't reciprocated?"

"Then, it's much the same. We go on living, as best as we possibly can. We'll just have to resort to living alone, and miserably, for the rest of our existence unless we off ourselves. I don't know of anyone who has successfully gotten past the hundred year mark without their significant other. So much as a week, it becomes intolerable."

Absently, I remembered that time in high school, where I had ignored him for the week. All the text messages he sent me, all the desperate looks, all the pleading to see me, to talk to me. Perhaps that was why? Because he couldn't endure being without me, as his... mate? It was a sort of twisted, strange thing to fathom about vampires then.

"So, you can't date anyone else? Let alone... love anyone else, or try to?" Though he had told me so much, it was still a bit hard to understand properly.

"No. We absolutely can't do that. It wouldn't work, regardless." He shot me a nervous look. "And hopefully, during the relationship they had cultivated together, the other mate wouldn't be so keen on inflicting them pain. Would you like me to feel constantly in pain?" He was throwing it all on me, and making me feel guilty. I could just tell.

"Maybe you would deserve it," I replied, mostly teasing, because him asking that was a bit silly. Of course, I wouldn't want anyone suffering due to me.

His forehead creased in worry. "Really?" he whispered, stunned. Obviously, he couldn't tell when something was a bit of a cruel joke being played onto him.

I stretched out underneath the covers onto my stomach, and reached over to pat his hand consolingly. "Of course not," I smiled. "That sounds really awful, though. All that you've just explained to me."

He placed his hands on each side of my skull, and leaned down over me. I couldn't even move my head, when it took me a second to process what he was doing, which was belatedly, since I was still half-asleep.

"I want to kiss you," he said, and he lifted my head and turned my face a fraction so his lips could meet mine fully. Kissing him felt wrong and right, all at the same time. I let him have his moment for half a second, before I got firm grasp on myself before the temptation hit, fast and hard. I had missed it, I realized then. I had missed both him kissing me, and me kissing him. But with a gasp, I pulled away.

"Edward, please don't. Just not... now."

I heard him draw a deep breath in. "Of course," he said quietly in disappointment. "Whatever you want. It's fine." And the way he said, the way he said, so understanding and complacent, it twisted my heart painfully. It made me finally realize, that he wasn't doing this to exactly hurt me at all. He wasn't trying to deliberately be malicious, he was just trying to make me... understand what he was going through, and if I could sympathize with him on some level. And, maybe I was starting to. I had acted wrong, yes. I had judged him falsely, because I was terrified of the unknown with him into what he was. He was being good to me, he was being understanding and patient, despite it being something I didn't deserve. But he had also done some things you couldn't turn your back on; In hurting Charlie. I didn't know how extensive it was for him, and I think that altogether made me feel compelled to be released so I could head on home and check and see for myself. I just need to know how Charlie was. That was it.

I sat up quickly on my knees, feeling an urgent need to explain. "It's just not... right. I can't right now." It was a weird betrayal thing I felt I would be doing to Charlie. And I found it was enough to stop me.